Blood Brothers
by Alexannah
Summary: -ON HIATUS-
1. Prologue: 1958

**Summary:** Harry thought the prophecy would be the last revelation about his life. But it wasn't. The largest was yet to come. Harry always thought he and Draco Malfoy had nothing in common. But after a hectic summer, they find there's something they do share … their parents.

**Warnings:** Slash, Femmeslash, Mentioned Child Abuse, References to Past Rape/Enslavement, Torture (Off-Screen)

**Rating:** T in case

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to JKR

**Author's Notes:** This fic is my response to the OC-Free Family Tree Challenge in my profile. Up till recently I was going to include Narcissa but in the end decided the plot round her made everything too complicated.

-----

**Blood Brothers**

By Alexannah

**Prologue: 1958**

The weather was bright and sunny. A young girl, no younger than four, was roaming the streets of Little Hangleton, looking lost. She had long black hair that looked a little unkempt, a pale face and big black eyes that looked haunted, but hopeful. They grew more and more desperate, however, as she couldn't find what she was looking for.

Bellatrix was almost in tears as she searched for the Portkey her mother had instructed her to find. It was a stone cat, in a garden somewhere. To use it she had to activate it by saying the password, "sherbet lemon". Her mother had created the Portkey the day before she'd moved in at the house. Bella had never left the house before in her life – in fact, she'd spent all her four years in the same two rooms: a library and a small bathroom. It was the first time she'd been in proper sunlight and she was getting a headache. She tripped over her feet, angry, tired tears falling down her face. She couldn't give up now. If she didn't find the stone cat, Daddy would find her.

A bicycle whizzed past her and she screamed out of fright, falling over heavily. A tiny trickle of blood began to run down her face and her hands were scratched and bleeding and her ankle hurt. Sniffing and trying to restrain from wailing, she pulled herself to her feet and limped to the pavement.

Then she saw it. She knew what a cat was from pictures in the library books. This one was grey and hard, but that was good, because it meant she'd found it. She'd found it!

Bella touched the cold stone with shaking hands and said in tearful jubilation, "Sherbet lemon!"

There was a jerk round her navel and suddenly the world was whirling around her. Bella was scared to death but she couldn't let go. Finally she collapsed in a heap in a brightly lit room.

She lifted her head. There were three men in the room, staring at her. She recognised the middle one immediately from her mother's descriptions.

Bella started crying again. She couldn't help it. She hurt all over and she was scared of Daddy and finally she'd found the one person she knew she could trust to help. Huge sobs shook right through her body, but more than anything they were tears of relief.

Albus Dumbledore knelt down and offered her a handkerchief before fussing over her, asking her name and seeing where she was hurt. Bella just sat and cried at the look of compassion in the bright blue eyes. Her mother said his eyes twinkled, but she'd never mentioned this. One of the other two men tried to interrupt, to interrogate her to find out who she was, but Dumbledore just said gently, "Cornelius, I don't think that helps."

Turning back to Bella, he rubbed her back gently and told her to blow her nose. Bella did so. It seemed a bit of a waste, messing up the lovely soft cloth, but when she finally calmed down enough to speak and said so, Dumbledore just chuckled.

"P-please," Bella finally choked out, "my mummy n-needs help."

"What sort of help?" Dumbledore asked gently.

This speech had been well-rehearsed in secret away from Daddy's ears. Bella knew it by heart.

"My mummy said she knows you. She moved into R-Riddle House five years ago." Suddenly Dumbledore's expression became stony and she gulped slightly. "Daddy won't let her out."

"Say no more." The twinkle had gone from Dumbledore's eyes. Young as she was, Bella could detect a kind of fury in them instead. "What's your name?"

"B-Bella."

"Cornelius, please escort Bella to the Hospital Wing," Dumbledore said calmly, though the fire was still raging in his eyes. "I have some business with Tom Riddle and I don't believe Bella should be witness."

Bella didn't want him to leave her with the stranger, but the man was kind enough, carrying her through endless corridors filled with moving pictures. Bella looked at them all in wonder and stopped sniffing. Everything would be all right now.

She hoped.


	2. Black Bellatrix

**Summary:** Harry thought the prophecy would be the last revelation about his life. But it wasn't. The largest was yet to come. Harry always thought he and Draco Malfoy had nothing in common. But after a hectic summer, they find there's something they do share … their parents.

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to JKR****

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**Chapter One: Black Bellatrix**

"Did you hear? Dumbledore turned down the Order's plan to capture Bellatrix Lestrange."

It was summer at Grimmauld Place, though the house was so grim it was difficult to tell. Harry had been quiet ever since the Order collected him from Privet Drive. Everyone supposed it was grief and stayed out of his way, except Ron, his mother, who brought food in their room three times a day, and Dumbledore, who'd stopped by on several occasions to speak to Harry alone. No-one else was round when these conversations took place and Harry didn't talk about them. He barely acknowledged anyone's presence. Every time Dumbledore left he looked like it was an effort to appear his usual cheerful self – there was a hint of despair in his eyes, which none were comforted to see.

Ron passed the time playing chess against himself in the same room just to keep Harry company, occasionally making one-sided conversation. This was the first time he'd tried that day. Sometimes Harry just stared into space, other times he'd nod of murmur acknowledgement. This time, he sat up and looked sharply at him, taken aback.

"He did?" It was the first time Harry had properly spoken since he'd arrived, apart from the odd "Thanks," or "Could you pass the salt?". "Why?"

Ron shrugged. "Something on the grounds of being too risky. I heard it from Fred and George this morning. Apparently the Order thinks something's fishy, cos Dumbledore's agreed to much less risky plans than this one."

"Maybe he's just trying to be more careful after what happened to Tonks."

"Maybe. But you know Moody, he's absolutely paranoid, he probably thinks someone's jinxed Dumbledore somehow to get him to stop them attacking the Death Eaters. Apparently they're going ahead tonight anyway."

"What?" Harry said incredulously. "After he said no?"

"Yep." Ron watched his knight being crushed by the queen. "Fred and George don't agree but they were overruled."

"Did anyone else disagree?"

"Well, according to Fred and George, Mundungus objected and got booted out. They left McGonagall out of the meeting from the start – everyone knows she always sides with Dumbledore. And Lupin was reluctant but in the end he agreed there might be something going on." Ron checked with the bishop. "If you ask me, I think they've all got sunstroke."

Harry shook his head slowly. "I can see their point. But Dumbledore would only turn a plan down if he had a really good reason not to. Who's to say he doesn't know something we don't?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno. Checkmate."

-----

Dumbledore had been seen angry on several occasions before by the Order – the first example that sprung to mind was when Mundungus had left Harry on his own to pick up stolen cauldrons – but with the exception of the few Order members who knew him well, no-one had seen him in a fury like the one that exploded when the Order came back to Headquarters with an unconscious Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry and Ron, who had heard the shouting, came downstairs to witness the pictures on the walls shaking as Dumbledore raised his voice for the first time, putting them down for going through the mission after he'd expressly said no. Lupin and a few others looked ashamed and helped him carry and lock Bellatrix into a room on the first floor that had nothing in it but a bed.

Dumbledore turned to the rest.

"Remus, stand guard. The rest of you, leave Ms Lestrange alone. If anyone is going to be questioning her it will be me. That is an order." He waited, but no-one objected. With that he sent them off.

Harry and Ron crept back upstairs. Harry collapsed onto the bed and resumed staring at the ceiling. Ron watched him.

"Hermione should be coming tomorrow." He waited. "Harry, are you okay?"

"Oh, fine. I just watched my godfather's murder being taken prisoner. I'm fine."

"If you say so."

-----

"I want to see her," Minerva said quietly. Albus sighed. He knew this was coming.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No. But it's what I want. Please, Albus."

He considered. "Alastor's on duty now. When Severus takes over, you can see her."

"Thank you," she whispered. Albus pulled her into a hug, forgetting they were in the Grimmauld Place kitchen. They only remembered when Remus interrupted.

"Albus!" he panted. "Moody and some of the others are in Bellatrix's room, they're trying to get information out of her -"

Minerva gasped and Albus' eyes narrowed. "I told them to leave her alone!" He positively stormed out of the kitchen, Minerva at his heels, and followed Remus quickly, who opened the door.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Albus disarmed the three Order members in the room. Bellatrix was lying panting on the floor. She looked a mess. It was obvious what they'd been doing.

"Out," Albus growled at them. "In the kitchen, now." He turned to Minerva, staring at Bellatrix in shock, and touched her arm gently. "Minerva, stay with her." An unspoken message passed between them.

Albus marched the disgraced Order members into the kitchen, locked the door and turned to them, making no effort to hide the disgust in his face.

"I am shocked." He spoke more calmly now, but his rage was obvious. It was greater than when they had taken Bellatrix in in the first place. "You were using the _Cruciatus curse_ on a _prisoner!_ What sort of people are you? Alastor, I'm really surprised at you. We don't use torture to get information! What makes you any better than the Death Eaters?"

-----

The news travelled quick around the Order that the three members were disgraced and Dumbledore was trying to decide what to do with them. Later came a bigger shock when it was discovered Bellatrix had escaped. Harry looked furious at the news. Dumbledore spoke to him again in private. Later, when people looked in on him, he'd gone back to how he was before she had arrived – silent and deep in thought.

When Hermione arrived the next day, Ron filled her in. She wondered if there was something funny going on, but neither of them investigated the matter.

**TBC …**

AN: A bit of a strange chapter, this one. You'll find out what Dumbledore said to Harry later – in the next chapter, as it happens. I'm almost done on that one. This one was quite short and abrupt, but I got the main points down. I do want to develop it later but it will do for plot development now.


	3. The Snake and the Lion

**Summary:** Harry thought the prophecy would be the last revelation about his life. But it wasn't. The largest was yet to come. Harry always thought he and Draco Malfoy had nothing in common. But after a hectic summer, they find there's something they do share … their parents.

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to JKR

-----

**Chapter Two: The Snake and the Lion**

Professor Severus Snape's quarters were not, as most people assumed, in the dungeons. In fact they were on the first floor in a corner separate from the rest of the school. They were guarded by a portrait of a scene resembling Shakespeare's witches in _Macbeth_. It had been chosen by Severus out of his love for old literature.

Minerva gave the password and entered. The living-room had several doors off of it: a kitchen, a study/potions lab, bedroom and bathroom. She knew which was which and knocked hard on the right one.

"Severus!" Pause. "Severus, you're late for class!"

When she got no reply, Minerva pushed the door open. Severus looked like he was still asleep. She moved round the bed, bent over him and prodded his shoulder.

"Gerrof," Severus mumbled.

"You're late. Get up."

He pulled the covers over his head. "'S'Saturday."

"It is not Saturday, it is Friday. You still have a day of lessons before the weekend. And your first class started five minutes ago."

Severus groaned loudly. "'Kay, 'kay, getting up." He yawned. "Who d'you think y'are anyway, m'mother?"

"Very funny. Up!"

He dragged himself out of bed and staggered into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to wake him up. "I hate Fridays."

"Join the club."

"Shouldn't you be teaching your own class?" Severus asked, glancing round at Minerva.

"Albus is holding the fort. Hurry up. You've got the sixth-year snakes and lions waiting."

Severus groaned. "Did you have to remind me? That class is even worse since those boys both got through the OWL. _Why_ couldn't one of them have failed?" he said miserably. "Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter have been at each other's throats _all bloody month_. And they're getting worse every lesson."

"If the other teachers can put up with them, I'm sure you can, Severus," Minerva rebuked. She handed him a cup of coffee and bread roll. He gulped the drink down in one and burnt his mouth. "Ouch!" Severus bit into the roll, shooed Minerva into the next room and pulled off his nightshirt.

"It's not a question of putting up with them. I've given out ten detentions, taken two hundred points from _each_ house and somehow resisted the urge not to bang their heads together when they're trying to sabotage the others' cauldrons all lesson. Draco nearly killed the whole class on Wednesday." Severus shuddered at the memory, wolfed down the rest of the bread and finished doing up his robes. "Ready."

"Well, maybe we should find a more effective way of punishing them than taking points and making them scrub cauldrons." Minerva brushed off the front of his robes. "Go on, get to your class."

Severus groaned but accepted the kiss on the cheek before rushing off, hoping he wouldn't arrive to find the classroom had been blown up.

-----

It was worse.

In the ten minutes waiting for their teacher to turn up, The Boys had started an all-out duel, Slytherins versus the Gryffindors. Hexes were flying everywhere when Severus arrived. Some of them he recognised to be dangerous.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed. The class fell deadly silent. And the other teachers wondered why he lost his temper so much with this class. Theory and wand-waving didn't invite half as much mischief. "Wands," he instructed, holding out his hands. The class all slowly handed them over for confiscation. "You two," he pointed at the two team leaders. "Follow me. Now."

The black-haired Gryffindor and the blonde Slytherin followed in silence. The first was limping and the second had a cut on his head. Fortunately, when Severus' eyes had swept the class, the others didn't seem to be hurt. Not knowing where else to take them, he led them up to the Hospital Wing. Poppy would keep them both in overnight which would give him time to think how to deal with them.

"In," he instructed. "Madam Pomfrey!"

Harry looked like he wasn't sure whether to be relieved he wasn't punishing them and dismay at being back in the Hospital Wing for the hundredth time. Draco just looked at the floor. Poppy emerged from her office and immediately started fussing.

"Duel in the corridor," he told her. "Keep them in until they receive notification of their punishment. That might not be till the morning," he threatened to them, "so if I were you I would behave until then if you don't want me to extend it." He nodded to Poppy. "I have a class to get back to. Good day, Poppy."

With that, he swept off towards the dungeons.

-----

It wasn't fair. Malfoy had started every single one of their confrontations. All Harry was doing was defending himself, and often his friends. So why was he being punished?

Maybe he should appeal to his Head of House, Harry thought, punching his pillow. Professor McGonagall was strict but she was also fair. And after last year, he suspected that she had a soft spot for him. Perhaps she would listen, because Snape certainly didn't.

Madam Pomfrey had cut off a section of the Hospital Wing just for the two of them. It was just him and Malfoy, who was already settled in bed with his back to him. Having had their wands confiscated, there was no danger of any more hex exchanges. Harry felt strange out the dormitory. It was too quiet. His hand went up to the chain round his neck.

He'd had it ever since he could remember. It had been in a box among the blankets when he was left with the Dursleys. They couldn't open it and just left it gathering dust in storage till he found it. It was a fine gold chain with an engraved semi-circle hanging from it, like a gold half-moon. There was what looked like half a crest, consisting of a tiny serpent and a bolt of lightning superimposed on top of it, with a few tiny words below which he could only make out a few letters of. Although he could tell they were Latin, he had no idea what they meant.

According to Hermione, most pureblood families (at least the ones that could afford it) gave their children chains like these when they were born. Ron didn't have one, but he knew some of his cousins had them. Normally the Latin engraving would be the family motto. Hermione had also told him that normally the pendants were a full circle. The only time they were Harry's shape was if the wearer was a twin, or at least had once been a twin.

Harry had never asked an adult who knew his parents to confirm this was the reason why his was different. A part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know. But he inevitably found that his hand went up to finger the chain if he felt lonely.

Looking up at the ceiling, Harry wondered what it would have been like if he'd been a twin. He might have had someone who didn't hate him with the Dursleys. Someone to share the fame with, and the pain of losing Sirius. Someone who was _always_ there when his friends couldn't be. Someone who saw him as a brother rather than the Boy-Who-Lived.

A snore emanated from the bed next to him and Harry had to stifle a chuckle. _If only Ron could hear this_, he thought. He sighed and closed his eyes. If Snape was thinking up a particularly nasty detention, it wouldn't pay to be tired during it. He pulled the covers over his head to try and shut out Malfoy's snores.

It must have worked, because not long afterwards Harry found himself drifting off.

_"If anyone deserves it, it's her."_

Dumbledore surveyed the bitterness in his voice and said sadly, "Do you really think so, Harry? Do you think anyone deserves the Cruciatus?"

The tone in his voice made Harry think. "I … don't know." He slumped back on his pillow. "I don't know what to think anymore."

Sirius … falling through the veil … the look of glee on her face …

"Yes," he said firmly a minute later.

"Who can really judge?" Dumbledore pressed. "Harry, how do you know Bellatrix was even in control at the time?" Harry looked at him in surprise, and he continued, "Plenty of Death Eaters pleaded that they were under control of the Imperious. Just because the Malfoys, for instance, lied doesn't mean they all did."

"Bellatrix Lestrange didn't plead innocent," Harry spat. "I saw her trial, remember? In your Pensieve. She was proud of what she'd done. If she'd been under Imperious it would have fallen when Voldemort lost his power."

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "Not if it wasn't the Imperious she was under."

Harry stared at him. "Professor, are you seriously trying to tell me something here? Apart from not to judge who deserves to be tortured, I mean."

This time Dumbledore nodded.

Harry jerked awake. After laying still for a moment, gathering his thoughts, he turned over and buried his head under his pillow.

It was easier to upload blame of Sirius' death onto the person who had killed him. But now there was a complication. Harry didn't know how to feel. He wished Dumbledore had never told him.

_The face of Bellatrix Lestrange in the Pensieve, openly declaring her loyalty to Voldemort; her estranged madness from the years in Azkaban looking up at him from the newspaper; the look of glee on her face as Sirius fell through the Veil …_

Harry punched the wall in frustration. All it did was hurt his fist. Sucking it, he looked around at Malfoy and was surprised to see him awake, staring at him.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped. Quietly.

Malfoy didn't move. Ouch, that had hurt. Harry rubbed his fist with his other hand, waiting for his roommate to speak. "Well?"

"What did you do that for?"

"The wall insulted me," Harry said sarcastically. "Go back to sleep, Malfoy."

He rolled over and pulled the covers back up. There was silence in the room for a moment before he heard Malfoy climb out of bed and make his way over to the window. Harry lay listening to his attempts to open it for a while before he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Got a problem?" he asked, sitting up. Malfoy, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, shot a glare at him.

"It's hot. Help me open this."

Harry didn't think it was _that_ hot, but not being able to sleep and having nothing better to do he put on his glasses, slid out of bed and joined in Malfoy's attempts to prise the window open. After a moment of combined struggling, the window suddenly shot open and Malfoy nearly fell out. Harry instinctively grabbed his arm. "Careful!"

"I was," Malfoy grunted, pulling away. "Let go of me."

"Fine," Harry muttered, letting the ungratefulness pass him by. As he turned to go back to bed, he spotted something and stared.

"Now what's your problem?"

Harry pointed. "You've got one too?"

Malfoy looked down as the fine gold semi-circle on his chest. "So?"

"It's half a circle."

"I know," Malfoy said in a tone he might use to address someone thick. "It's called a Venustus Ortus– a Birth Charm. All the purebloods receive them the day they're born," he said in his I'm-so-perfect-because-I'm-a-Malfoy voice. "Something I wouldn't expect a Muggle-raised Gryffindor to know."

"No they don't," Harry said in reference to his second sentence, ignoring the last remark. "They get full circles. You're a twin."

Malfoy's face hardened. "I was once," he snapped. "He died. End of story. Get lost, Potter."

"Can I see it?"

"Why?" Malfoy asked suspiciously.

Harry shrugged. "Well, if you think it's not good enough to show me …"

Malfoy scowled and handed him the chain. Harry peered closely at it. The half crest contained nothing more than a Snitch, and the Latin words at the bottom were incomplete, like on his.

A strange, crazy idea coming to him, Harry pulled his own charm out of his pyjamas. Malfoy started.

"You've got one too? … Oh yeah, I guess your father was a pureblood …" He trailed off. "What are you doing?"

Harry was holding the two semi-circles close together. Malfoy's went a different way – put together, they made up a full circle. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the tiny words engraved seemed clearer – clear enough to read.

"_Una nos sto_," Harry read from his own, then from Malfoy's, "_tribuo nos cado_." He looked up at Malfoy. "What does that mean?"

"Er … Together we … something …" Malfoy frowned. "I don't know, I can't remember all my Latin. So?"

"It just … sounds like … it should go together … like it's two parts of one phrase … doesn't it?"

Malfoy pulled away. "So? Maybe your father's family had a similar motto to mine -"

"The markings," Harry pressed, "round the crest – look -" He pulled on Malfoy's charm and brought them together again. "Look, they're identical. _It's the same crest_."

"Don't be -" Malfoy started in annoyance, but broke off with a gasp – As Harry had touched the charms together, a burst of magic seemed to jolt through them both. Harry also gasped, but not because of the shock – Malfoy's face was changing before his eyes.

Harry let go of the chains and stumbled backwards, staring as the sleek blonde hair gave way to messy brown, and the grey eyes turned green. Malfoy's chin became less pointed, his nose longer, his cheekbones more prominent. _He was turning into someone else_.

"What?" Malfoy asked him, puzzled. Harry pointed at is face as the last changed took place.

"You might want to look in a mirror," he said shakily.

There was a long one at the other end of the ward. Malfoy pushed Harry aside and raced to get there – then, once he saw his reflection, he froze in horror and all blood drained from his new face.

"I – I – I -" he stammered, before finally, "I l-look like you!"

Harry swallowed. His brain seemed to have stopped functioning.

"I don't believe it!" Malfoy gasped, drawing nearer to the mirror. "_Oh my God!_" he yelled. "_What have you done to me???_"

"What is all this noise?" a sharp voice snapped from behind them. "Really, boys, I'm going to have to deduct -" Madam Pomfrey broke off mid-sentence as she saw Malfoy. "Oh," she said quietly.

"Oh?" Malfoy copied her, his hysterical voice questioning. "_Oh??_ Is that all you can say?? _What's Potter done to me???_"

"Mr Mal – Draco, be quiet!" Madam Pomfrey snapped.

It was the correction that seemed to shut Draco up more than her raised voice. Harry just stared, trying to put two and two together. Somehow, the pieces wouldn't fit into place. Draco looked almost exactly like him, only with brown hair instead of black, and no glasses.

It didn't take a genius to put two and two together, but Harry had gone completely numb. It couldn't be – _it couldn't be_ …

"Sit down, both of you," Madam Pomfrey said quietly. She looked more tired than Harry had ever seen her, and she was wearing a dressing-gown with her brown curls loose instead of pinned back like usual.

Harry and Draco sat. And Madam Pomfrey explained.

**TBC …**

AN: I know, what a horrible cliffhanger! Oh, and about the Latin – I don't actually know the language, I use an online translator, so if I've got it completely wrong please tell me. It's supposed to translate as _Together we stand, divided we fall_ – kind of ironic, considering the plot. Ditto the name for the birth charms.

**Review Responses (sorry, I forgot to do these last chapter):**

**something-like-love:** Yes, it does look like that; and yes, the point of a good fanfiction is to keep readers guessing …

**ImSoMMAD:** Well, I like to think Albus was tempted to kill him … interesting point, maybe I should raise it in a few chapters. Well, you now know what Albus said to Harry. When you say what Albus did, you mean Bella 'escaping'? And he told the truth because it's related to the other revelation in this chapter, which he knew Harry would have to know soon so he was letting him know a little to prepare him a bit more for the rest … You write lovely reviews, keep it up!

Thanks also to **mrs-estabella-potter, XxmychemicalromanceisawesmexX, Chris Ann, joy, kazalvr, rosiegirl **and **WhiteGreen** for reviewing


	4. Divided We Fall

**Summary:** Harry thought the prophecy would be the last revelation about his life. But it wasn't. The largest was yet to come. Harry always thought he and Draco Malfoy had nothing in common. But after a hectic summer, they find there's something they do share … their parents.

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to JKR

**Author's notes:** Most of the tree is fitting together now. Just a couple of bits to go after this chapter.

-----

_**Last chapter**_ _Draco looked almost exactly like him, only with brown hair instead of black, and no glasses. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together _…_ Madam Pomfrey explained._

**Chapter Three: Divided We Fall**

Harry's head was beginning to clear. Madam Pomfrey had paused after her first statement, apparently waiting for a reaction. Although his thoughts were less muddled, his emotions were in turmoil.

He'd known for about three years that there was the possibility he was once a twin. But the thought that his sibling was alive and living near him was something that had never crossed his mind. He'd always assumed he or she died. And now the school nurse of all people had announced that Draco – _Draco Malfoy_ – was his brother.

How? _How? Why???_

Glancing sideways at Malfoy – Draco – Harry saw a similar whirl of thoughts and emotions on his face. Buzzing with questions, the first one Harry blurted out was, "How do you know?"

Madam Pomfrey and Draco both looked taken aback, Draco turning to stare at Harry, but after a moment he turned back to Madam Pomfrey and they both waited.

"Well … it's … a long story," she began finally. "Sixteen years ago, your family fell apart. Your father John – my son – left home and lost contact, before he knew about you two. Your mother had been pressured by her adoptive family to marry a pureblood – when her husband found out she was pregnant it was the only option."

"So … you're our grandmother?" Draco said weakly. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I." Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. "How come _he_ -" Harry jerked his head at Draco "- had glamours on and I don't?"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Draco was born first; he was taken in by the Malfoy family." Harry saw Draco swallow. "Harry was taken in by James – my other son. No glamours were needed because he already looked like him."

Harry looked at Madam Pomfrey properly. Now he knew, he could see the resemblance between her and James Potter. His uncle.

"What about my – our – mother?"

"Bella's still trapped in her pureblood marriage," Madam Pomfrey said quietly. "Among other things. She was Lily Evans' half-sister," she added, more to Harry than Draco. "That's where you get your eyes from – your maternal grandmother."

Bella. The name suddenly struck Harry hard.

"Bellatrix Lestrange?" he whispered hoarsely. "_Bellatrix Lestrange is my mother?_"

Draco's mouth fell open.

"How -?" Madam Pomfrey began, before she cut herself off. "Yes." Seeing Harry's expression, she added quietly, "Albus said he told you she was being controlled?"

Harry nodded numbly.

Draco took over the questions. "What about our father? Did he get back in contact? Is he still alive?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head slowly, tears in her eyes. "No, he didn't get back in contact. As for whether he's still alive or not, all I have to go on is hope." She cleared her throat, blinking. "The same for your mother."

Harry and Draco met each other's eyes properly for the first time since the beginning of the conversation. It felt strange looking into eyes exactly the same as his. Now he thought about it, Harry was sure he'd seen them on someone else he knew …

"You said something about our m – Bellatrix's adoptive family," he said quietly. "You mean the Blacks?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Bella was also split up from her siblings at a young age – for different reasons. It would be better if you asked your other grandmother about that."

"Other grandmother?" Draco repeated.

-----

Minerva was working late. This was unusual for her. Albus was already asleep – normally he was the one who stayed at his desk till the early hours of the morning and then over-slept till noon the next day. Severus had come up with the perfect way to get Draco and Harry to get along, but was reluctant to go along with it.

"I refuse to let my quarters be turned into a war zone," he said flatly. "Find another teacher to host them."

She shook her head fondly and looked up at the photo on her desk. It was of a young girl, clutching a small boy in her arms, both dark-haired and dark-eyed with mischievous grins on their faces. Next to them, propped up in a baby chair, was a infant around six months with a tuft of auburn hair and Minerva's own bright green eyes.

It was as she was lost in the picture, thinking of times long gone, there was a tap on the office door and Poppy pushed it open. Before Minerva could ask her what she wanted this late, she spotted two sets of identical green eyes staring at her, exactly like the ones she had been watching in the picture just now.

"Oh," she said softly. There was a pause as the room stood still. Before she could stop herself she had left her desk and drew close with her arms open. To her surprise, Draco accepted the embrace and Harry pulled away.

"Harry?"

The black-haired twin shook his head, his face beginning to reflect anger. "No. I've heard enough tonight." Before she or Poppy could say anything, he turned and added, "If you don't mind, Madam Pomfrey, I'm discharging myself."

With that, he left the office at a run, slamming the door behind him.

-----

When Ron first saw Harry lying in his bed, he thought he was imagining things. Wasn't his best friend supposed to be in the Hospital Wing? Then it struck him that Harry had probably left early, due to his fed-up-ness (was that even a word?) with being there. Ron sighed. Harry was so bloody stubborn.

A moment later he turned around and looked at him again. Harry was still asleep, hunched up under the bedclothes as usual, one hand clutching the birth charm Ron remembered him showing them months ago and his face looked … odd. As if he'd been crying. But Harry never cried.

Ron hesitated. It was still early on a Saturday, and none of the other boys in the dormitory had woken yet. If he tried to ask Harry if there was something wrong, it would either cause a scene or Harry would deny everything and leave in a hurry. Or both. Probably that one.

It would be better to wait. And ask subtly. Ron pulled on some clothes and left the dormitory quietly, intent on getting a couple of laps on the Quidditch field in before breakfast started. He got the shock of his life when he fell over the last student he expected to see near Gryffindor Tower, outside the portrait hole.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Ron demanded. Malfoy glared at him, massaging his foot.

"I need to talk to – to Potter. Is he up yet?"

Ron stared. "Why?"

"None of your business, Weasley," Malfoy snapped. "Is he up yet or not?"

"No, he's still asleep." Ron paused. Something had changed in the Slytherin. He couldn't put his finger on it. "Do you want me to give him a message?" he asked sarcastically.

"No need. I'll wait. You can go off and do … whatever it is you do."

There didn't seem to be a reply to that without looking childishly petty, so Ron stalked off, broomstick in hand. As he rounded the corner, he expected to hear some snarky comment about his broom from Malfoy, but none came. Glancing back, he saw the Slytherin had gone back to staring blankly at the Fat Lady's portrait. The subject herself was ignoring him completely. Although there was no expression written on his face, it suddenly dawned on Ron that Malfoy had seemed more human in that short conversation than in all the years he'd known him.

Ten minutes later, he was on the Quidditch pitch, all concern about Harry and curiosity about Malfoy gone.

-----

Harry didn't want breakfast. He didn't want to get up at all, and he certainly didn't want to run into certain people – to be more precise, a list that so far contained his arch-enemy, his Head of House, and the school matron. Oh, and Dumbledore, he supposed – chances were he'd known all along. Part of Harry seemed to be saying that if he acted like nothing had happened, then things could go back to the way they were: a world where Draco – Malfoy, Malfoy! – was nothing but the school bully, and the Hogwarts staff were simply that – school staff, with nothing in common with him except an ability to use a wand. That scenario was what he was used to and it was too confusing any other way.

The problem was, the other part wanted it to be true. Because if it was, he could well be this close to getting what he wanted more than anything else in the world.

Trying to ignore his mixed emotions building up inside him, Harry pulled on the first clothes he found and left the dormitory, intent on visiting the kitchens. Chances were, Dobby would be only too glad to get him breakfast (although in truth he wasn't that hungry) and wouldn't turn out to be some long-lost cousin or something. A yelp of pain as he fell over something jerked him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, it's you," Harry said dully, once he'd got back on his feet.

"You could sound a _little_ happier to see me," Draco muttered.

Someone – presumably one of their grandmothers (_that_ was going to take a bit of getting used to) – had obviously replaced his glamours, because the boy standing before Harry now looked no different than the boy who had attempted to make his life miserable from the day he'd refused his hand on the train. No, that wasn't true. Something had changed. Perhaps the glamours were the same as they had been, but they couldn't mask a change in his character. A subtle change, perhaps, but one Harry noticed.

"What did you expect? Me to just forget the fact that we've been warring for over five years and let a similarity in blood cancel out everything we ever said or did to each other? Forget it."

Draco actually flinched. "No, but I did think you would cut me a bit of slack considering what we just found out. And considering we're in the same boat."

"No we're not." Harry tried to leave but Draco stepped in front of him. "Move, I'm trying to go to breakfast."

"No, we need to talk. What do you mean, we're not in the same boat? I had no idea about any of this, if that's what you're implying. I'm just as stunned as you are."

"I wasn't implying that. I was saying that our situations are completely different. Okay, so we've found out the same thing. Big deal. The fact that you don't have a clue what I'm on about proves what I'm saying. We both come from completely different backgrounds and should be expected to react in different ways. So _you_ should really be the one cutting _me_ slack."

"I know we're different!" Draco half-shouted. "I just don't understand why _you're_ acting like _this_. I would have thought you'd be thrilled. _You're_ the one who grew up without parents and spent every holiday here because you hated your Muggle relatives."

Slightly surprised that Draco had come to that conclusion, Harry just felt more frustrated than ever. Because that was true. But there was also something Draco hadn't realised.

"Don't you get it? They lied to us. We've been going to this school for _five years_. What, you think it just slipped their minds to tell us about this?"

Draco was silent for a moment. "Poppy -"

"Oh, so it's _Poppy_ now is it? What's next, Grandma Pomfrey?"

Draco ignored the jab. "Poppy and Minerva – all right, Professor McGonagall if it makes you feel better – explained it. What you heard was only a tiny bit. I still don't know all of it, 'cause it's connected to our grandfather on – Professor McGonagall's – side, and she said it would be better if she explained that bit to both of us at the same time."

Harry snorted. "Well, she doesn't need to. I'm not blind. It's obvious. Think about it. Voldemort's worst enemy, so we'd be in danger cos of that. He's even got red hair, like my m – like Lily did. Well, he used to anyway. And anyone can see how close he and Professor McGonagall are."

Draco blinked. "You think – _Dumbledore_ …?"

"It fits, doesn't it?."

"Fine, if you say so. You know them better than I do." There was something in his voice that sounded bitter, and unbalanced Harry for a moment.

"That's another thing, though. You know why I was sent to the Dursleys'?" Silence from Draco. "Because my m – Lily – died to save me, and because of that I had protection from her blood relations. I hated it there but I've had to stick it out because Dumbledore said there was nowhere – no-_one_ – else. But that's not true, is it?"

"I think you're over-reacting," Draco said quietly.

"You try living with the Dursleys, then you'll see I'm not."

"I'm not talking about that. Perhaps if you just gave them all a chance to explain -"

"Explain _what?_ Why almost every year since I got my Hogwarts letter I've found out something else about myself I had no idea about and people around me knew and didn't tell me?"

"Now you're being selfish."

"Just how am I being selfish?"

"You're just thinking about _you!_" Draco exploded. "What about _me?_ I've been spoon-fed crap all my life and now I've got the chance to figure out what's real, work out who I really am. Figure out who my _family_ is."

"By all means go on your journey of self-discovery. I'm not stopping you."

"You are by not being part of it! Look, correct me if I'm wrong, but my whole life I've known something was missing, that _I_ was missing something. Haven't you always felt the same?"

Harry remained silent. He had, but he wasn't about to admit it. Draco sighed. "Fine, be like that. Have a nice life, on your _own_. Don't worry about _me_, your bloody _twin_."

The words struck Harry like two pebbles hurled at his chest, but he couldn't stand it any longer. He needed to think, to clear his head, to sort out his emotions. For a minute he thought Draco was going to let him walk away, but then his brother called after him.

"Look, do you want to hear what they told me last night or not?"

Harry stopped. He couldn't help it, he was curious. "Fine, give me the worst."

Draco sighed. "Not here. We've been making enough of a scene. Thank Merlin everyone's still in bed. I for one am not ready for the whole school to know about this."

Finally, something they agreed on.

-----

Actually, not everyone was still in bed. Besides Ron, who was still on the Quidditch pitch, Crabbe and Goyle had already eaten breakfast and were wandering around where they knew Gryffindor Tower was, intent on interrogating one of Potter's friends to find out when he and Malfoy would be released. Just as they were on the verge of giving up, Goyle heard voices and grabbed Crabbe's arm. Peering round a corner, they saw Malfoy staring with a bewildered look on his face after Potter, who was stalking away from him in their direction, looking like he was in a bad mood.

"Look, do you want to hear what they told me last night or not?" Malfoy called.

Potter stopped walking towards them. There was a pause. "Fine, give me the worst."

They heard Malfoy sigh. "Not here. We've been making enough of a scene. Thank Merlin everyone's still in bed. I for one am not ready for the whole school to know about this."

Know about what? Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances. Malfoy overtook Potter and started leading the way. Crabbe and Goyle scrambled backwards, falling through a secret entrance behind a tapestry. They waited quietly in the dark – Goyle trembled as what felt like a spider scuttled over his foot – until Potter and Malfoy's footsteps had passed.

"Where do you think they're going?" Crabbe whispered.

They followed them.

Potter and Malfoy went to the library. Peering through a crack in the door, the Slytherins spotted them sitting on the same table in a corner. Malfoy was anxiously looking over his shoulder, presumably to check they weren't being watched.

"Can you hear what they're saying?" Goyle whispered.

"Don't be stupid," Crabbe whispered back. "They're too far away."

Malfoy started drawing something out on a scrap of parchment. Potter leaned over his shoulder, frowning.

"What are you two doing?"

The boys jumped and whirled round, coming nose-to-nose with a scowling Snape.

**TBC …**

Thanks to Chris Ann, RapidReader916 and rosiegirl for reviewing. Has everyone else lost interest in this one? Please …?


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